


bingo

by blackflipcat



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: BDSM Scene, Blindfolds, Bondage, Breeding, Come Eating, Consensual Kink, Creampie, Dirty Talk, Drabble Collection, Emotional Manipulation, Extremely Dubious Consent, M/M, Name-Calling, Panty Kink, Possessive Tony Stark, Sensory Deprivation, Sexual Roleplay, Sexual Tension, Snowballing, Starker Bingo 2019, Strip Tease, Subspace, Teasing, Webcam/Video Chat Sex, inappropriate use of AI, referenced cheating but no actual cheating
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-05
Updated: 2019-09-29
Packaged: 2020-06-03 04:53:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19456765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackflipcat/pseuds/blackflipcat
Summary: 2019 Starker BingoCh1: Impregnation PlayCh2: BlindfoldCh3: Strip TeaseCh4: Snowball FightCh5: Free Space (Roleplay)





	1. impregnation play

He reaches for the boy’s hands which are digging into the sheets, taking hold of them and grips them tightly with his own, hips jerking, each thrust sliding the boy further up the mattress. Doesn’t take long before Peter lets out a strangled noise as he comes, something between and pleasure, while Tony slams back in one more time and goes rough. Reaching down, he sweeps back the fringe from the boy’s eyes so he can look into them. 

He nips at the skin of Peter’s jaw because the boy still has his eyes closed, eyelashes wet, “Still with me?” Peter’s eyes flutter open then, half-lidded, wet and hazy with pleasure and Tony thinks he’s never seen anything more hot and beautiful at the same time. 

"Y-yeah," Peter fixes him a dopey-fucked-out grin, and he arches up, "Wow, yeah, was that good?" 

“So fucking good, you don't even know how amazing you are,” Tony praises, sliding down the bed, shameless eyes greedily drinking in the debauched sight in front of him up close. “So tight and hot around me, sweet, sweet boy. Now look at you, stuffed full and leaking.”

Peter blushes, still vibrating from the low hum of pleasure sparking throughout his body. He feels so dirty; because he likes this part the best. The feel of slick, sticky hot come inside him. Tony’s teeth nips at his hip bone, distracting. Fingers at his opening, pushing the come back inside, twisting his fingers _just so_. 

Peter mewls at the burn of it.

“You still sore, sweetheart?” Tony kisses the inside of his thigh, an apology. “I don’t want a drop to spill out, Pete. Keep you nice and full until you’re pregnant so everyone will know you’re mine.”


	2. blindfold

The sound of the cuffs locking makes the anticipation race in him. He had asked for vibranium specifically and Tony had eventually relented. If they were going to do this right, he needed them. Once the last cuff is locked in place and Tony moves away does Peter start to feel the arousal prickle at his skin, slow but steady. Like molasses, he thinks distantly. It's subtle but it's there.

"How do you feel?" Tony sounds unaffected, far away yet his sense of smell tells him otherwise. He focuses on Tony's tone, aloof and casual, like the man sometimes gets when he's hiding behind a facade, or when he's worried. He'll play it off Peter knows. He worries. "Comfortable? Check in, Pete."

"Yes," he answers quietly, "green. Very green." He imagines green, and he can see it behind his eyes, he swears. But he can't actually see.

Tony makes a non-committal noise, and the bed dips as the man settles beside him. It drives him insane, feeling the man pressed up against his side that he instantly can tell the brand of the suit Tony is wearing today (Dolce & Gabbana, with the red tie) because the material of it is _extremely_ soft to the touch, like silk, like the times he buries his face in the man's chest after a long day and feels it against his cheek. It's nice.

"Need more words than that, sweetheart."

He feels himself blush at the term of endearment. Already he can feel himself start to go under, but he recognizes the order he hears. It's gentle but still there. On the surface. 

"I feel safe," Peter tries to explain, "grounded. I can't see but it's like I can...like you are turning off one sense turned the others way up."

"Yeah, that's how that works," Tony hums, and Peter _shivers_ when he feels a hand cup his jaw, "imagine with your spidey senses your sense of touch suddenly has doubled. Or it is more of eleven by the power of two?" As if to make his point, the man brushes a thumb over the sensitive skin of his neckline, but it feels like...like so much _more_. He feels himself grow hard.

"Definitely 121," he gasps, squirming against the restraints. A hum of pleasure spills from his throat when he feels the hand move up to tug at his hair. He whines when the touch abruptly pulls away.

“You’re like a hurt puppy when you don’t get what you want immediately,” Tony chides him lightly, chuckling. "I haven't even really touched you yet and already you're all flushed pretty and hard for me." His tone is reverent, and Peter can tell, just by the infinitesimal way he can hear Tony's heartbeat speed up, that the man is turned on just as he is.

"Please," he breathes out, and he moans when he feels a hand briefly touch at his hip, close to groin, a hairbreadth away from his dick. He bucks up towards the touch on reflex. "Need you."

"How?" 

"Rough," he begs, and somehow not being able to see Tony's reaction emboldens him and he clarifies, "want you to use me. Like I'm yours."

"You are," Tony replies instantly, and the hand on his hip is back, this time with intent, squeezing. "All of this is mine, isn't it? Only for me." 


	3. striptease

"Now, now, don't get shy on me," Mr. Stark says, voice like honey and face deceptively straight. His sunglasses are dark purple today, Peter notes. Purple lenses with gold-tipped frames. The camera phone has stunning precision ("Prototype, only for you, sunshine"), the video feed making it almost seem like he can just dip his finger in the screen itself and touch the man.

Except Tony Stark is in the Emirates where it's bright and sunny and Peter is laying in his hand-me-down four-poster bed with the loud night city noises outside his window to further emphasis they're not only continents apart, but worlds too. Only time will tell how much longer their little sordid relationship will last. But, Peter's not going to end it first. Never-mind MJ giving him unsolicited advice every chance she gets that _he_ should just to see how far the older man would go. ("Make him work for that bubble butt, Parker, you're hot and he's what? Pushing fifty?"). He never mentions they haven't technically fucked yet. Not from lack of trying, on his part. 

"I don't know, I feel kind of silly," Peter mumbles, tilting the screen downward, giving the man a brief flash of his exposed midriff as he lifts the hem of his shirt, the material of the underwear peeking from the very tops of his jeans. 

"So hot," Mr. Stark quells the fear instantly. "Really, don't doubt it. You post that online, I promise you'll get every pervert in this world wanting a piece of you. Don't make me trace every IP geolocation trying to fuck you."

"Hmm, nah, only for you, at least _this_ video," Peter replies airily, and lets his free hand drift down to the top button, undoing it but doesn't open his fly fully on purpose. Runs his fingertips over the exposed lace instead, "you're not busy, are you? I wanted to test how well this camera is on capturing the details."

"I made this phone specifically for you for a reason, sunshine. I can already see you leaked come through the front," Mr. Stark comments, tongue peeking out briefly to lick his lower lip, and no thanks to his sunglasses, Peter can't see the man's eyes undressing him. "Spoiled brat, doing this to me now. It's 9 AM here and Pep's expecting me to meet the board in ten."

"I can work with ten," Peter compromises, standing up, plugging the phone into its charging cradle and propping it up against his desk monitor. He can see the entire Dubai skyline behind the man's shoulder, he thinks. Mr. Stark must be in a conference room. On his phone, watching Peter do this.

"I even got a soundtrack to go with it."

"Soundtrack?"

"I need music if I'm gonna do this right," Peter explains, smirking, and presses play on the corner right-hand screen that pops out. The room fills with synthwave dance music. On the loudest setting. Thank god Aunt May is on a night shift. 

He sways his hips as he starts to shimmy down his jeans, matching the fluid movements he makes to the sine waves. Ah, sine. Sin, his brain unbiddenly corrects. 

He's only managed to unbutton the first top two on his school dress uniform when he stops abruptly. 

"Tease," is the guffaw response he gets, and Peter counts it as a win when the man pulls off his glasses hastily, and practically throws them on the table, and they skid off with a loud clank so now Peter can _see_ the man's eyes dilate. Wow, Mr. Stark wasn't kidding about the specs.

"Happy?"

Peter makes a giddy purr. Licks the palm of his hand before dipping it behind the waistband of the barely-there panties he's got on. "Very."


	4. snowball

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **TW** : tagging as extremely dub-con & emotional manipulation to be safe as it's implied Tony purposefully messed with Peter's suit to fuck with his senses. I don't know, I was in a dark mood and my muses just wrote it for me. ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

"You alright, Parker?" Tony Stark intones, voice alarmingly high through the comms in Peter's suit. "Your webs look a little limp there."

Peter swings upside down temporarily as he regains his footing, so to speak. 

Post fight adrenaline always makes him feel a bit more peaked than usual, and he'd hoped he could escape quickly enough to take care of it without notice.

"Y-yeah, fine," Peter squeaks, managing to land perfectly on the ledge. Behind him he can hear the sound of the repulsors turning off followed by the familiar mechanical whirring noise of the Ironman suit unlocking its owner.

Tony Stark steps out, fixing him a look that clearly says he thinks otherwise. "Pretty close the ledge there, kid." 

"Yeah, I, uh, overestimated," Peter says lamely, reaching up to take off his mask and takes a safe distance back step. The cold air hits him, and he shivers, goosebumps rising.

His vision does the weird thing where he feels like he's temporarily looking through a microscope, can see the thin layer of sweat over Tony's face, the sound of the man's heartbeat. The very _threads_ of his suit.

Peter blinks. His vision refocuses.

Tony's hand is instantly at the crook of his elbow, holding him up from falling to the ground.

"Hey, you're on something, Pete?" Tony asks, tone soft. "I know you weren't hurt, I already asked Karen."

Peter looks up, blinking. Heart dropping. "You talk to Karen?"

"No, but FRIDAY does. I'm beginning to think they gossip about us," Tony says, a small smile on his lips. "Friday asked Karen because she knew I was concerned about your little poor fly away jump back there. I thought your web fluid were stronger than that."

"It is," Peter insists, feeling defensive. "Mr Stark, I can handle-"

"I don’t think so," is the rapid-fire response Peter gets, the tone dismissive, tugging Peter towards the floating Ironman suit. "Let's get you to medbay. Dr. Cho can look you over, make sure you weren't hit with something."

"No, Mr Stark, I'm really fine I mean really - " He reaches for his mask with shaking hands, putting it on. "I just didn't get enough sleep last night, so, uh, just gonna go home and sleep it off."

"So you lied," Tony infers, taking off his glasses, and somehow it's worse seeing the man without them, his eyes hard, "when I asked you if you were 100%, it was implied you slept and had your wheaties for breakfast. Can't be a superhero if you're not at your best, that's the deal we had when I gave you the suit back."

"You're being condescending," Peter snaps, "you _promised_ you treat me like any other member on the team. Do you ask them if they had their wheaties?”

A flicker of surprise glints in the man's eyes, before it's gone and his face hardens, "No, but any _other_ team member, if they weren't feeling well, they would either tell me or not bother to tell me and just not show up and put themselves or others at risk. I expect that from them. So I _expected_ it from you."

"Plenty of times you didn’t when you flew in the suit," Peter retorts, not sure where this newfound bravery is coming from, but he can't find it in himself to stop. "Plenty videos of you drunk suiting up."

Tony fixes him a sardonic smile. "You got me there. I'm not proud of it, Peter. Which is why I worry if you're not at your best. I don't want you to do something you'll regret later."

He leans into the man, hating himself for bringing that up. Everyone knew Tony Stark and his constant battle with sobriety was a recurring beast for the man.

"I'm sorry, I just, don't feel, feel really..." Peter trails off, shaking his head, and takes off the mask, feeling like he can't breathe with it on right now.

"I remember," Tony says, and Peter can barely contain his squawk of surprise when the man puts his hand on his hip, "about your senses. I designed your suit to help combat that. I guess puberty is still making it difficult for me to keep up with the constant changes. Pesky teenage hormones and all that."

"Mr Stark-" and this time he _knows_ the man's intent when the hand trails lower, and he whimpers, feeling shame because it's all he thinks about nowadays when he's alone in bed and puts on the mask to drown out the city noises and -

"You can't get off with the lights can you?" Tony asks, and even though the man is physically closer, Peter strains to hear him, "because every single time I've watched you, I noticed you can't come unless you put the mask on, always asked for blackout mode."

He should be angry, Peter distantly thinks. He wants to be but he can't deny he likes what the man is doing to him, likes the thought of Tony Stark watching the videos. He pushes for more, hands clenching and unclenching. "I've tried, but it's always too much. Too much input. Can't...cancel it out." 

Tony’s hand threads through his hair. The touch crawls down his spine and settles low in his gut, forming heat and expanding down to his toes.

“Mr Stark-“ Peter gasps, hands now gripping tightly to the man’s lapels to hold himself up. “I need...I need...uugh…”

“Shh, you’re going to be fine,” Mr Stark’s voice is steady and calm, opposite to Peter’s erratic heart rate and sweaty palms. “I’m going to take care of you.”

The hand moves, finding the opening of his suit (of course, the man designed his suit after all) and takes Peter’s erection in hand, stroking him. 

Peter mewls, practically sobbing at how good it feels, and Mr Stark licks into his mouth, possessive and hard. 

“Come for me, sweet boy. Make a mess all over my hand and my suit. My money and hard work went into this, Peter. Just so I can do this. Get you here. Were you worth it?”

Peter hiccups, and wants to but can’t. “I...I..”

"Now," Mr. Stark commands, voice hard and bristled. "Don't make me ask you again, Parker.”

He sobs into Mr Stark’s mouth, and the man just swallows every moan, and Peter feels his release splatter all over himself and Mr Stark’s hand, every part of him lighting up with pleasure. The man continues to touch him past the point of overstimulation and before Peter can beg him to stop, Mr Stark pulls his hand away and abruptly pushes his come-soaked fingers into Peter’s mouth, past the front of his teeth that Peter has no choice but to suck, the taste of himself mixing with his own saliva. 

All the while Mr Stark watches him with an impassive expression, and Peter sucks the fingers in his mouth harder, wanting to pull a reaction from the man. Anything. 

“Good boy,” Mr Stark says evenly, pulling his fingers out, then cradles Peter’s chin in his hand. “You feel better now?”

Peter nods numbly, too tongue-tied to form words. 

“Don’t swallow yet,” Mr Stark tells him, thumb smoothing over Peter’s cheek, gentle. “I want to kiss you, swallow your own come in my mouth. You want that too, don’t you?”

Peter lets out a needy groan at the words, the buzzing in his ears growing fainter. All he can hear is the raw power humming from the man’s chest. The arc reactor.

“Because it’s _mine_ ,” Mr Stark emphasizes, “everything you have and own, every part of you, is for me and me alone.”

With that, the man cups his face with both hands, with such dominant care, and pressing their lips together, tongue confidently pushing past the seam of Peter’s lips. Peter licks back tentatively, rolling their tongues together. Brain hazy with pleasure, Peter stops thinking altogether as their kiss becomes more and more wet and sloppy with Peter’s come and their own mixed spit. By the time he comes back to his senses, Peter’s fully grinding himself against Mr Stark’s front and whimpering, hard again.

Mr Stark catches the dribble on the corner of Peter’s lips, sucks it off his thumb. “You’re a mess, Pete. C’mon, let's get you back and changed.”

Peter blinks, still confused why he’s on the rooftop and not already at the tower for the debrief. Mr Stark is already in the Ironman suit by the time Peter puts his mask back on and when the man’s modified voice comes through the suit says, “Wrap around me, kid.” Peter smiles and doesn’t think twice.


	5. roleplay

Walking backwards isn’t an easy feat, but Peter has it nailed. He’s used to it by now, stumbling over stairs and shoving their mouths together. Tony grips onto him tightly, hands everywhere at once, over his ass, his sides and dipping deftly under the hem of his shirt and pushing it up. Peter laughs into his mouth at the feel of the hard-on pressed against his lower belly as he grinds their hips together.

“Eager, Mr Stark?” he asks with a teasing lilt.

“You tell me,” Tony says, tone low and hot as fuck as his tongue traces the delicate skin behind Peter’s ear before blowing, “You came here, gagging for it. Been weeks hasn’t it, and you’re aching for it like a little slut.”

“Funny, you’re the one who answered the door and shoved your tongue down my throat,” Peter replies cheekily, and the tremor of his voice fades out when the man shoves him down on the bed with intent. Peter lifts up his hips to peel down his jeans and underwear with practiced ease. He raises a brow when Tony just unzips open the crotch of his pants and Tony smirks as he grips Peter’s legs and opens them nice and wide so he can take the space between them and shove in.

“You’re the one whose ass is dripping lube onto my sheets, sweetheart,” Tony says breathlessly with a grunt and it takes a moment for Peter’s brain to come back online long enough to whimper out, “Uh-huh, yeah,” before Tony pistons in deeper.

The sight of the man's muscles flexing as he holds himself up and fucks into him will never get old and immediately sends a shuddering crescendo throughout his whole body. Peter can barely breathe from being bounced so hard between the mattress and Tony’s hard body. 

Eyes catching Peter’s hazy gaze, Tony flips him onto his stomach and slams back in hard, just the way Peter likes, wrapping his arms around him while whispering filth into his ears. A mix of dirty words and dark promises intermingled with possessiveness. 

"Jesus you’re loud.” The tone is surprised and the pace slows down a bit. Peter manages to catch his breath. “New boyfriend not giving it to you enough, Pete?”

Peter buries his face into the sheets, feeling the red embarrassment heating his face and neck. “He’s **–** we don’t, uh, we don’t do t-this.”

Tony sounds amused now, and he pulls out all the way before slamming in harder. “Aw, so he can’t keep up. I see.” Peter bites down hard on his lip. Usually they don’t talk about _this_. God damn it. Instead of guilt, he feels the hot flare of arousal. Getting off to getting off cheating on his boyfriend.

"No, he thinks I'm a virgin," Peter gasps out. "Wants to take things slow."

Tony's mouth feels scorching hot against the nape of his neck. "That's cute. Thinks you're an innocent virgin but really you're a slut."

Tony tugs hard on his hair and then Peter moans.

"After I come in your ass, you're going to suck me off, aren't you," Tony's voice is sickeningly sweet. "Because that's what you like, huh. Filled to the brim with my come."

Peter feels his heart stutter and he's so hard, fingers clawing at the sheets. "Y-yes."

"God, look at you, just sucking me in even more as I said that," Tony hums, and switches the angle, hitting the spot dead-on that has him writhing uncontrollably. "Squirming on my cock like a whore. Better than, even. I don't have to pay you to want this."

Peter's eyes roll up and flutter shut, releasing a heavy breath and bites at his lip again to contain himself but it's useless. Tony knows every button to press and the man presses on unapologetically.

* * *

Hours later he's clean and back on cool sheets and he feels the familiar weight of a hand sliding up and down his spine. He smiles.

"Good?"

Peter looks into his boyfriend's warm brown eyes. "I'm pretty sure me passing out was a good indicator."

Tony slides his hand down his side and to his thigh, pulling Peter's leg up over his hip. "You're pretty when you're blushing. Which is amazing to me. After everything we've done, you went bright red at a few name calling. There's something else I wanted to try on that list of yours..." Peter purrs into the kiss he's pulled into and nips at Tony's bottom lip, "Which one?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> finished! woo! (◠‿◠✿) it's been fun ya'll  
> comment below if there was a certain prompt you liked more. i'm always interested to hearing what people want more expansions on.


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